#battle spirits dan

[autodeity]

blorbo

[blogtangkwa]

The Boy and The Dragon

[antoniettap1303]

Buon 2023, Happy New Year and 明けましておめでとうございます！

今年もよろしくお願いします〜🧧⭐🎉🎊

[idontthinkimokaymentally]

Hello there Flora Perfume fans.

[amirasainz]

Helllooo,

Would it be alright if I request a platonic grid x reader, where the reader is also a driver and gets into a crash, and all the drivers get protective over the reader and are very dotting towards her

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

Broken arm

The atmosphere at the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya was electric as the F1 cars roared to life for the final laps of the race. The sun shone brightly over the crowd, casting a warm glow on the track, but for Yn, the youngest driver on the grid and the pride of Red Bull Racing, this race was becoming increasingly tense. She was battling hard, fighting for her first podium, when disaster struck.

Coming out of Turn 3, Yn miscalculated her entry, her rear tires sliding dangerously. She tried to correct, but it was too late. The car spun violently, hitting the barriers with a sickening crunch that echoed through the stands. The red flags waved immediately, signaling the end of the race. Panic washed over the paddock as other drivers slowed down and began making their way back to the garages.

Inside the Red Bull garage, the mood shifted from excitement to dread. “Did you see that? She was flying!” Daniel exclaimed, his eyes wide with concern. “I hope she’s okay.”

“Keep calm, Dan. They’ll get her out,” Max replied, trying to mask his worry, but his voice was tight with tension.

As the teams packed up their equipment, everyone’s focus remained on the screens showing the crash. The cameras zoomed in on Yn’s car, which was now stationary, surrounded by marshals and medical personnel. The sight of her crumpled car sent a chill through the drivers’ hearts.

“I can’t watch this,” Lando said, pacing back and forth in the McLaren garage. “Someone needs to go check on her.”

“I’ll go,” Carlos volunteered, but he was stopped by Lewis. “Wait, we need to see if she’s out of the car first.”

Finally, the moment everyone had been dreading came. The cameras caught Yn slowly emerging from the wreckage, with help from the medical team. She was cradling her left arm against her chest, her face pale but her eyes still fierce. The sight of her injuries sent a wave of anxiety through the drivers watching from their respective garages.

“She’s out!” Pierre shouted, relief flooding through him, but the worry remained etched on every driver’s face.

The teams moved in silence, their minds racing. “We should go to the hospital after the race,” Charles suggested. “She’ll need us there.”

“Absolutely,” George agreed, glancing at his teammates. “She’s one of us, and she’s going to need all the support she can get.”

The race had concluded, but the drivers' minds were not on their standings. They jumped into their cars and made their way to the hospital. The atmosphere was tense, each driver lost in their thoughts, reflecting on the fragile nature of their sport.

In the hospital waiting room, the mood was somber. They had gathered a few massive bouquets of flowers, bright colors spilling from the paper, trying to lift Yn’s spirits. “I hope she’s not too badly hurt,” Daniel said, biting his lip nervously.

“She’s tough. She’ll bounce back,” Max reassured, though his own anxiety lingered. “I mean, she’s always giving us a run for our money out there.”

Finally, the nurse appeared, a kind smile breaking through the tension. “You can see her now. She’s awake, but she’ll need some time to rest.”

The drivers filed in one by one, entering Yn’s hospital room. The sight of her lying in the bed with a cast on her arm tugged at their hearts. “Hey, superstar,” Daniel said softly, his smile brightening the dim room. “You scared us half to death out there.”

Yn looked up, her expression a mix of pain and amusement. “Well, at least I made it exciting,” she joked, though her voice was strained. “I think I broke the car more than my arm, though.”

“Stop joking around. We were all freaking out,” Lando said, shaking his head. “You should have seen us in the garages. I thought we’d lose it!”

“I was more worried about you than my race,” Charles added, leaning closer. “Just seeing you get out of that car…” He trailed off, remembering how terrified he felt.

“Yeah, you’ve got to stop trying to drive like us old guys,” Lewis teased, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re still young; it’s okay to take it slow once in a while.”

“Yeah, Yn,” George piped up, crossing his arms. “You’re supposed to make us look good, not give us heart attacks.”

As they all settled into the room, Carlos placed the massive bouquets of flowers on the bedside table. “These are for you. Just a little something to brighten your day.”

“Wow, you guys are so sweet,” Yn replied, her eyes sparkling with gratitude, though the pain in her arm reminded her of her predicament. “I might have to keep you all around to spoil me more often.”

“Only if you promise to get better and come back stronger,” Max said, his tone serious. “We need you out there, pushing us. It’s not the same without you.”

“I promise,” she said, her voice steady despite the pain. “But you all have to promise to drive safely. No more crazy moves, okay?”

“Deal,” they all chimed in unison.

As the hours passed, the drivers took turns keeping Yn company, sharing stories and laughter, and even some embarrassing moments from their racing careers. They joked about their first crashes, and as the sun began to set outside the hospital window, a sense of warmth enveloped the room.

“Next time, I’ll win a race just for you,” Yn declared, a determined glint in her eyes.

“Make it happen,” Lando replied, bumping her foot playfully. “But for now, let’s focus on healing that arm. We can’t have you holding us back when we race again.”

“Okay, okay, you’ve convinced me,” she laughed softly, her heart swelling with affection for her fellow drivers. “Thanks for being here. You guys really are the best.”

As they prepared to leave, each driver gave her a reassuring hug, careful not to bump her injured arm. “We’ll check on you tomorrow,” Lewis said, a protective gleam in his eyes. “Rest up.”

The group exited the room, the weight of their worries lightened slightly by their shared moments with Yn. They knew she would be back, stronger than ever, and they would be right there, cheering her on. Racing was a dangerous sport, but in that hospital room, they found comfort in each other and the bond that made them not just competitors but a family.

[shaniacsboogara]

I hope that some ghost somewhere has access to the internet so they can show all their ghost buddies Shane and Ryan going around and fucking with their friends. I'd imagine the ghost community's opinion on the Ghoul Boys would be divided into spirits who think what they do is hilarious, and those who DREAD the day they might be the subject of their next investigation. Entities who've been featured on Ghost Files would be treated sort of like people who get famous for being in viral fail videos online. Goatman's reputation is an absolute JOKE after the stunt Shane pulled at his bridge. The Apple Tater / Spaghetti ghost is celebrated for being the funniest motherfucker out there. Ghouls that they gave nicknames to like "Nighttime Dan" and "Captain Puddle" are now named that for the rest of their lives. The battle between Shane Madej and Mr Hull is lauded as a groundbreaking pop culture event. A fandom has started to form for these goobers in the afterlife, hence the increase in instances of ghosts calling them "daddy" and saying other bonkers bullshit to try to get a reaction out of their icons. It's like screaming into the void of tumblr.com but from beyond the grave.

[moineauz]

A ticket for The Brighter Side Of Spring

Dan Feng x gn!Reader (platonic if you may 🙏)

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ THE HOUSE OF MUSICA PRESENTS... 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐌 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐍 ノ𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 — dan feng !

synopsis: friends that lead back to each other, again and again in other words: you form an unlikely friendship

side comments: fun fact i've never written for dan feng before so please give me grace! I'm glad to get this out of my drafts hehe

extra: fluff & subtle angst, high cloud quintet is mentioned, gn reader, platonic word count: 1,860

The lives of long-life species possessed their own elusive nature. It humoured you how an adolescent could be your mother. Or how an adult remained blithe and buoyant despite taking as many breaths as your bygone ancestors who wandered distant stars.

You were similar to a weed dwelling between the crevices of the Xianzhou Lofu: an unassuming and unpretentious merchant who cracked dull rocks until its sheltered gemstones glistened in the Xianzhou's morning light. A lifestyle grown and bred into the tangled veins of your arm.

When streets cleared and day melted into the sober tunes of the night: you ran your hands on the walls of Xianzhou buildings and allowed yourself to hum or succumb to the dreaded sensations of stillness. Perhaps becoming a branch for birds to sit on briefly before departing anew, never lingering longer than they desire.

There was no loneliness like there's, no stillness too void or cramp. Hence, despite all your years of solitary travel, the toils of the universe never prepared you for the inner liberality of companionship and the ardour that washed against your bare feet: a tide that clings onto the shore. Sand tucked between your toes in remembrance.

You knew every corridor and tucked away street on the Xianzhou. You knew where the birds came to nurse their young in the spring. You knew where the cheapest tea house was, and you knew where the High Cloud Quintet enjoyed a glass together.

You have observed them. Learned their jokes and playful banter that emerged beneath each victorious battle and spar. You learned who speaks in silence and who blossoms when they wrap their fingers around the hilt of their sword.

Soon, you began to stifle your laughter when the wisps of their jokes reached your ears. Forever wondering who would ever win against Sword Champion Jingliu.

It became a subconscious habit to journey astray from your usual path to pay an unasked tribute to the spirited group of five. Their affable smiles drew tender circles around your heart and gave you the charm of luck. It was a foreign sensation and a craving to observe their lives out of naive curiosity.

If your life as a merchant was a display of various colours blended together, then the lives of the High Cloud Quintet were shape and form, a glowing spark atop the canvas of your indefinite indecision and vagueness. They were magnetic and undeniable, the focus or subject. They brought definition- meaning- to the strange painting of your mundane and quiet life.

It was a pause from the familiar: a fraction of time in which genuine excitement would wrestle with your spent soul and win every time. It was like watching a saga of friends- not soldiers or comrades- you believed would never depart.

There was a peculiar warmth in watching that.

It was one similarly dull afternoon that day; the clouds dancing in puffs and the occasional starskiff racing across the horizon, leaving trails of circular patterns in the sky. Business resumed and paused like a video; breathing and exhaling before grazing against the sky in limbo.

Various stones were on display that day, begging to remain on your stand a minute longer. Other trinkets seemed to accept their tedious fate; the cycle trudging onwards.

At that moment, under the gaze of an autumn breeze, you received a different customer.

Despite aimlessly gazing into the throng for half an hour, you did not notice his figure gliding towards your stand, or how the throng parted like a sea in his presence: similar to the myths you've overheard amongst fruit stands and scholars. You failed to notice the sway of his dignified sleeves and the slight ruffle of his collar against his placid skin. Even the distinct ornament- his earring- was another passing colour in the blurry field of many.

"Is there any item you would suggest?"

His voice is low and taut: the kind that orders the tides to turn and the rivers to bend. It startles you despite hearing it month after month, like a song whose lyrics brush against the walls of your mind. His expression is plain yet the streak of red found by the corners of his eyes creates an inexplicable contrast.

High Elder Dan Feng stood before your stand; washing over you like the fickle image of the moon on the water.

"Well..." you hesitated, searching for your words while attempting to recover from your initial daze, "If you're looking for something pleasing to the eyes then I suggest this." You gingerly lift a glimmering stone to light, its shifting hues bewitching.

Dan Feng nods as he does to the Sword Artisan- Yingxing- when indicating for him to continue. Yet, his expression displays indifference. Hence, your finger twitched and an inkling of irritation shoots through your body. Nevertheless, you bite the insides of your cheeks and maintain the facade: he was another customer amongst the thousands of others. His face and words will fade away with memory and time.

'Don't think of him any differently', you urged yourself.

"Not all treasures have to be that of stone," you muse, switching that mask of your voice into one of rehearsed enthusiasm, "This here is a unique construction of coral from various oceans across star systems," you bring the piece forward, "An abstract piece of art retaining the stories of thousands of seas."

Dan Feng's eyes trace over the ridges of the coral and the colour it illuminates. He seems interested- you note- ease gradually returning to your body.

No matter how often you bid the group of five a silent hello, you had only peeled the outer layers. Thus, the position and prowess they possessed still struck you down. Especially Dan Feng's.

It occurred to you- in all of your raw naiveness- that despite the laughter which rumbled alive in your chest and the genuine fondness you shared for the group, they were still living legends and you a mere merchant.

Dan Feng gazes up from the coral and back to you. "What would you purchase?

"Me?" you reply perplexed. You occasionally received that question. However, you learned customers inquired out of courtesy. The people of the Xianzhou Lofu possessed their own preferences, hence, your insights ultimately held no merit.

Your eyes scan over the various array of stones and jewels, art pieces and items whose sole purpose was to be vain. It has occurred to you to withhold an item. However, if a peculiar item ever spoke to you, then the likelihood of it speaking to another was higher.

Dan Feng crossed his arms; awaiting your response to which you possessed none. His gaze was condemning and acute, like a spotlight that now landed on you.

Dan Feng then spoke, "You're a wandering merchant, yes?"

You nod tentatively, observing him trace his fingers over the arch of a wooden bowl.

"Then surely, amongst all the sights and treasures you've seen, there must be at least one you find pleasing?"

At that moment, it struck you how right he was.

High Elder Dan Feng seldom spoke unless necessary. He bewildered you with the ambiguity of his gestures and the implicit tenderness found at the tip of his spear. Dan Feng resembled a bird: no loneliness like there's, no stillness too void or cramp.

You take in the crisp afternoon air; running your thumb over the crevices of your hand as the words fall out of your mouth like a cool stream, "You're right. There is... one item in particular."

Dan Feng watches you: your hands moving under the stand. "I've been quite selfish," he hears your remark, the item coming out into the light, "It's rather small but special."

Dan Feng raises an eyebrow at the peculiar item nestled into the palms of your hands. Yet, he merely nods.

Then he's gone.

Dan Feng never intended to visit your stand that day.

Or the following months afterwards.

It becomes habitual: like an instinct that can't shake or an itch that can't be satisfied.

It opposed his very nature- Jingliu and Jing Yuan now teased him at every given chance.

"Oh? I suppose High Elder Dan Feng can have friends."

Soon, Dan Feng's presence wove into the seams of the everyday. The merchant district and the other merchants themselves no longer gaped or whispered.

Dan Feng weaved through the crowds, his legs taking him farther than his heart could ever reach: an odd enigma, an acquaintance found in the eye of a shared storm.

"What brings you here today High Elder?" you ask, a smile dancing on the corners of your lips, "I'm afraid I have nothing new in stock."

"Same as last week?" he conceded, his arms crossed over his chest, "A shame."

You scoff, resting your elbows on the stand's smooth surface. "Really? You never buy anything even if I have new items."

"Perhaps something has caught my eye," he replies indifferently, his eyes aimlessly examining the items before him.

"Oh? Please tell."

Dan Feng sighs, shaking his head, weary admits the beaming sun and cloudless sky.

"The denizens of abundance again?"

Dan Feng remains silent, observing the furrow in your eyebrows and the lines of fatigue littering your face. He recalls where your smile ends and starts like the line of the horizon. He knows where the pensive frown on your face dips like the sea churning away.

"You know what? Let's go somewhere."

"Pardon me?"

You chuckle, "You heard me, let go somewhere else." You promptly pack your stand, "We can go somewhere more... quiet."

Dan Feng's heart drops, he reaches for your hand, but, quickly retracts it. "Why?" he asks abruptly, the word escaping him.

"Why?" you remark bewildered.

Silence fills the gap between his words and yours. A lump forms in the back of your throat, weighing you down- reminiscent of times before.

"Well," you being pensive, eyes fixed onto the birds in the distance before focusing on Dan Feng, "That's what friends are for."

You were similar to a weed dwelling between the crevices of the Xianzhou Lofu: an unassuming and unpretentious merchant who opened your apartment door- bewildered and evidently dazed from a night's sleep- to a small box found at your doorstep. The box's shine is subtle and wise while it carries the scent of the sea: a promise unearthed from the rubble.

You crouch down, turning your head left and right before gingerly placing the small box in your hands. Careful not to disturb its tender tranquillity.

Gradually, you lift the lid as the Xianshou's rising sun pressed against its warmth against the cool surface of your cheek: humble like a prayer, bidding you a silent 'good morning'.

Your eyes widen as the object gazes at you, its surface smooth and velvet.

Then you see a note and a bag of Strale:

Don't give it back or sell it. I did buy it from you after all. Thus, it is yours now, you're not selfish for wanting your own treasures.

That's what friends are for.

— Dan Feng, your friend

You tuck the small wooden bird into your pocket, the letter firmly pressed against your beating heart.

masterlist.

[mrsreinhart]

When I first met Lili Reinhart, I had no idea who she was (no offense, Lili!)—nor was I familiar with her role in Riverdale. But as I got to know her, something clicked. It became clear that Lili wasn’t just another face. She embodied what most great entrepreneurs do: a deep understanding of the problem at hand, with a desire to roll up their sleeves and do the work.

Lili’s personal battle with acne and mental health isn’t just a backstory; it’s her driving force. She brings real passion and lived experience to the table—qualities that are essential for building a meaningful brand. Her entrepreneurial spirit shines through in every conversation. Of course, she’s also an incredible actress with a dedicated community, but it’s her authenticity and dedication to this mission that truly set her apart and is part of the reason we got excited to build this brand.

Truer words have never been spoken. This is incredibly sweet 🥹

[heartfeltwarmth]

𝑶𝒏 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝑺𝒊𝒅𝒆 - 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒆

After surviving the battle with the last Supreme Guardian, Cocolia Rand, most people would have expected the crew of the Astral Express to be in high spirits. While some amount of joy and relief were evident on their faces, Dan Heng could not help but notice the way Stelle’s usual small smile would falter at times when she thought no one was looking.

“This is a lot to ask of you but you and the Astral Express Crew are the only ones I can trust with this.” Stomach dropping, Dan Heng barely had time to brace himself for Stelle’s request.

Read the rest on AO3 or continue down below :3 (3,372 words)

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written for alteanroyals. Fun Fact: When Stelle got impaled by Cocolia’s lance, Dan Heng was the first to gasp and rush closest to where she might have fallen. Bf behavior.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! Our children can now finally see the sky!”

“We owe you so much for reuniting our families…!”

More people crowded in the streets of Belobog with loud and happy chatter. In the center of it all, the young and newly coronated Madam Guardian smiled at the now warmly welcomed outsiders. As a young child, she had always dreamed of such an occasion, not the coronation, but rather being able to see the people of Belobog together as one.

With regal steps, Bronya stepped down from the makeshift platform standing in the middle of the Administrative District and made her way to March 7th, Dan Heng, and Stelle. She put a gentle hand on March’s shoulder and nodded at everyone. “You must all be exhausted. The festivities can continue tomorrow but for now, let us all rest.”

That’s when March gave a nervous chuckle. “Is it possible that we can– uh– change hotels or…” She tried to smile harder to make up for any wordless complaint Dan Heng made as he sighed exasperatedly.

“We’re no longer wanted criminals, thankfully, but…” He glanced at Bronya who began to press her lips into a sheepish grin as well, most likely remembering the morning she was ordered to arrest the trio. “I understand March’s concern. I hate to inconvenience you at such a busy time right after your coronation, but is there a different place we can stay for the night?”

Bronya closed her eyes in thought, placing a hand under her chin. “I’m sure arrangements can be swiftly made if we decide upon something… Ah!” The young lady gestured for the three to follow her and soon the crowd behind them dissipated with their last words of heartfelt gratitude.

To the Astral Express Crew’s surprise, they found themselves walking up the stairs that led to Qlipoth Fort. Stelle was the first one to pipe up about this. “Are you sure it’s alright to stay in such an important place?”

At this, Bronya let out a small but comforting laugh. “I am simply inviting distinguished guests to my humble home. Also you three now know all of the Supreme Guardian's deepest secrets, not to mention you are the ones who helped prevent the great calamity the past Guardians worked tirelessly to get rid of. I am sure there is nothing you will find in there that I would want to prevent you from knowing.”

March’s eyes lit up. “So this is going to be even more luxurious than the VIP rooms in Goethe Hotel?! Yes!!!” She pumped her fists up in the air excitedly, earning herself a chuckle or two from just her contagious excitement. “Time to sleep away these eye bags! Dan Heng, you should try doing that too.”

Eyebrows furrowing, Dan Heng gave March a side-eye. “I do not have eye bags.”

“Dark circles, my bad. I could hardly tell the differences between the two when I look at your face.”

“Hey–!”

“Alright now…!” Stelle put both hands behind March and started to lightly nudge her in the direction Bronya was going as she smiled at Dan Heng seemingly in effort to cut between the two before another squabble broke out. “I think this is where we will be parting ways?”

Bronya nodded. “I will have someone take you to your room Dan Heng. I’m sorry ladies. You’ll have to share a room. As grand as Qlipoth Fort is, we are still limited in guest rooms.”

“It’s fine! We’re grateful either way, Bronya. Thank you.” Stelle thanked her, ignoring March’s pout for now, before Bronya waved goodbye at them to retire to her own bedroom for the evening.

“Hmph.” March crossed her arms and frowned at Stelle as they stood in front of the door of the hallway where their room would be located. “You always take Dan Heng’s side and defend him!” She complained before Stelle could even open the door.

Unfortunately instead of feeling guilty as March would have liked her new friend to feel a prick of, Stelle just giggled at how adorable the pink-haired girl was all worked up. It was a bit hard not to spoil her. “I do not. You’re mistaken.”

“Am not! You even tried to offer to keep watch last time when he was the one who suggested it in the first place Stelle! Tell me how that’s not always siding with him!” Try as she might, Stelle’s gentle pats on the girl’s back did nothing much to quell her accusations which Stelle predicted March would forget as soon as she laid her eyes on a comfortable bed.

From a short distance, Dan Heng could hear Stelle make a promise to March to make it up to her somehow which made him sigh. Seriously, that girl was always biting off more things than she can chew. Though…..somehow she still does. Still, too much of anything can be a bad thing. Dan Heng just wished that everyone could keep that in mind, especially Stelle after what he had observed of her so far.

Then Dan Heng picked up the sound of March hollering in success, happy that she was going to receive some special treatment from Stelle tomorrow which she thought she greatly deserved. It made the young man want to roll his eyes. But as he was about to turn and leave to follow a guard that just walked up to him, the look on Stelle’s face made his steps falter.

She looked… upset?

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It had been ten minutes since Dan Heng laid himself down on his bed after taking a long-awaited bath. But even the serenity of Qlipoth Fort did little to quiet down the tumultuous thoughts in his mind, the image of Stelle’s void expression replaying over and over.

Granted, Stelle on many occasions had a more or less neutral look on her face but it never meant she was devoid of emotion either.

Everyone around her had easily accepted that it was just her natural resting face, an expression that often hid another layer of emotion. There were just enough times where Dan Heng caught a slight twinkle of amusement in her eyes whenever Pom-Pom spoke animatedly with her. He was so, so sure that Stelle wasn’t the type to suppress her emotions given that she would make her little funny quips here and there, some humorous enough that even he at times found himself needing to fight the feeling of the corners of his mouth threatening to lift.

Could he be wrong?

Unable to find sleep, Dan Heng reluctantly got up and put on his coat without all his usual important ornaments.

He was just going to go on a quick stroll to clear his head and come straight back to his room afterwards.

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Whether or not the Eternal Freeze had taken over Jarilo-VI, it was still a beautiful planet. From beyond the frosted glass panes that lined the corridor Stelle was treading through, a beautiful moon lit the white snow, the outdoor heaters glowing like festival lanterns in the streets. After the Stellaron had been contained, it seemed that the cold let up even if just a little. The usual storm-covered skies of the night was clear that night for the first time in a long while.

All was quiet and ethereal, nothing like Stelle had ever seen, which made her chest tighten even more at the question of why Cocolia would ever want to trade this world for another. Stelle let her mind wander further as she stopped at the window, wondering what it would have been like to grow up in Belobog. She wondered…whether or not she had a childhood she could even remember.

Remembering Cocolia’s final moments, a hand found its way onto her chest, over where the Stellaron was placed inside her.

The voices that had plagued Cocolia’s mind… Stelle could no longer hear them, nor did she dream of them. Even so, the ashen-haired girl had found herself waking up with a trembling gasp next to a sound asleep March 7th. There were no other voices that woke her so Stelle concluded that it must have been a dream she had forgotten the moment she woke up.

“What if it was something I should remember?” Her own voice echoed in her head with hesitant inquiry. Then her mind alerted her to an incoming presence from behind her. The sensation was soon followed by the sound of a very quiet inhale. “Dan Heng?” For some reason– It looked as if he was more surprised to see her than she was to see him. Her surprise was quickly overcome with familiarity. She offered him a slight grin. “Taking a midnight stroll?”

It took Dan Heng an extra moment before he could find the words to speak. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw a few seconds as he walked down the carpeted hall. Stelle, standing before him bathed under the light of the moon. His breath caught in his throat. They were both much more simply dressed than usual, both in sleepwear and a jacket to wrap around them. But for the first time, he had to dwell in confusion on why having his guard thrown off like this didn’t alarm him as much as it usually did. It was just Stelle. Why was he being so affected right now? Right! Words– Uh–

“Just a short one.” Was his equally short reply. There was a mutual understanding that sleep had escaped them tonight.

Stelle nodded in understanding. “Me too. I thought looking at the scenery might help.” Her head turned from him and back to the scenery. As Dan Heng walked over to where he was, Stelle slightly turned her body to the side to make room for him to share the picturesque night. “Maybe you could take a picture of this for the data bank.” She smiled at him. “Belobog at different times of the day. What do you think?”

It wasn’t a bad idea in the slightest so Dan Heng gave her a slow nod. “I don’t see why not. But I didn’t bring my phone with me.”

“Oh– Ah. I didn’t think to bring mine either.”

Dan Heng shrugged with his shoulders crossed. “March is better at this sort of thing. You can pester her about it some other time.”

To his surprise, Stelle let out a small laugh. “Wow, don’t you two get along great.”

The harmless comment made the young man narrow his eyes. “If by get along you mean to annoy each other to death, then by that definition you are 100% correct.” This earned him another laugh, one that Stelle tried to stifle but could not do so entirely.

“A friendship that transcends even death, huh? How sweet.”

Then for a second, Dan Heng recalled a gray sky, the feeling of mind-blanking horror as he watched a lance plunge deep into their comrade's body. Everyone’s blood went cold at that moment even without all the ice and snow. It was a near-death experience that almost took away the latest addition to the Astral Express before anyone could get a chance to really get to know her, including Stelle herself.

Feeling obliged to ask, even more so after seeing the face she made before they went to their seperate rooms earlier, Dan Heng cleared his throat after a moment of silence. He had to force the words lodged in his throat when Stelle gave him a slightly concerned look. Seriously, wasn’t he supposed to be the one who was concerned here? “Did you really come out here to just admire the scenery?”

As Stelle went quiet, Dan Heng bit the inside of his cheek. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked, after all they’ve only had known each other for a short while. It was one thing to trust your life to someone on the battlefield, Stelle being a person anyone with a good head on their shoulders would give that trust to.

It was another thing entirely to trust someone with the life that you’re living, the experiences encompassing all the fragments and knots of one's thoughts and emotions. Even Dan Heng knew that he had never entrusted anyone with his life in that way before, leading him to think he was most likely being invasive right now. But in his case, Dan Heng had come to an understanding, a long, long time ago, that his past was a burden that he alone should shoulder. He didn't know what Stelle wanted to do with her burden but he certainly wasn't going to pry for an answer.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” He added, murmuring the last few words as he craned his neck away with regret. “I can leave you alone–”

“It’s alright! You don’t have to go…”

Dan Heng’s eyes widened.

Stelle fought to keep a stammer from overtaking her speech. “I really don’t mind the company, in fact I appreciate you asking.” Dan Heng’s body relaxed but in his mind– He couldn’t quite understand why he was feeling slightly light-headed after Stelle stopped him from leaving. “I just wasn’t sure how to tell you in a way that wouldn’t burden you too much. A lot has happened in a short amount of time and I’m sure you’re just as exhausted as the rest of us.”

Dan Heng frowned. “Burden me how?” He was determined to hear how Stelle came to such a conclusion. If anyone had implanted this useless idea into her head…

It was Stelle’s turn to look away, every small movement she made cast a glow from reflecting the moon’s beams. “I have so many questions and well– Since you’re in charge of the data bank…”

Nodding, Dan Heng motioned her to continue.

“I wanted to ask you more about Stellarons but from what I heard from Himeko and Mr. Yang….”

The Stellarons remained to be enigmas. Any information that one could get their hands on about these seeds of destruction, the data bank had already indexed them including the events which transpired after Stelle appeared out of nowhere. The IPC also called them the Cancer of All Worlds, a title that certainly brought about worry to all those who heard it. The gears in Dan Heng’s mind began to click. “Are you afraid… of the Stellaron?”

Unflinchingly, Stelle looked into his eyes and in them, Dan Heng found desperation.

“I don’t…”

She began to slightly tremble.

“I don’t want to end up like her…”

Dan Heng moved closer, cautiously. “Like Cocolia?”

Stelle nodded, her head dipping down seemingly in shame. Her fingers twitched as if they wanted to move across her body and clutch herself, to hold herself from spilling any more than she already had but it was too late. Even in this moment, Dan Heng could see with clear evidence that Stelle was still trying to be brave… yet she was failing. “If… If the Stellaron…” Stelle took a deep breath and tried again.

“This is a lot to ask of you but you and the Astral Express Crew are the only ones I can trust with this.”

Stomach dropping, Dan Heng barely had time to brace himself for Stelle’s request.

“If one day I can’t resist the call of the Stellaron, you have to stop me by any means necessary.”

“A–” The nauseating expression on Dan Heng’s face made Stelle retreat a little. “Any… means…. Necessa- No. Stelle.” His usual reserved nature was nowhere to be found as he frantically caught Stelle by the shoulder. “That will never happen. You are different from Cocolia. You even now walk on the path of Preservation that she failed to as a leader of Belobog, you two can not be any more different.”

As Dan Heng’s words reverberated in Stelle’s mind, she failed to notice the way how both of his hands now held her firmly by the sides of her upper arms as he tried to do everything he could to turn her away from making a final decision once and for all. “But the most important thing is for everyone to be safe.” She tried to explain her reasoning.

Sighing heavily, Dan Heng turned his head away before looking back at Stelle. “I’m the guardian of the Express. It should be me keeping everyone safe, including you. You've already tried sacrificing yourself once.” He then felt a gentle press on the back of his hand where he found Stelle’s fingers lightly touching the hand he had around her arm.

Shoot– When did he start grabbing her like this?? He was ready to admit his wrongdoings and pull away to apologize before Stelle clasped his hand tighter in her own.

Dan Heng’s heart stopped.

“....Stelle?”

“Thank you.” The ashen-haired girl smiled and it was so warm, akin to the golden sun like the ones in her eyes, radiant beams of light to bask under if you ever fell under her gaze. “Thank you so much, Dan Heng. I honestly can’t put into words how grateful I am to you and the crew.” Like her smile, her hand felt warm too but in the way Dan Heng could feel it in his chest even though there was still space between them.

The Eternal Freeze could have gone on for another 700 years and Dan Heng would still have never felt as warm as he did in this moment than he had in his whole entire life.

“You say all of this as if you’ve not done anything for us either.” He found his voice growing more gentle as did his facial features. What was she being so grateful for? Maybe she's just this type of person. “If we continue to keep records of who owes whom what, we’d have an archive larger than the Express itself so forget about it Stelle.”

Her soft giggle in response tickled in his ears like a dancing summer breeze and he felt his hand under hers grow hot. It didn’t seem like she wanted to let go just yet so he didn't move away. In all seriousness, Dan Heng had meant every word he had said but even as she laughed, he had to admit to himself that he didn’t feel the need to correct her. Laughter suited her. “I’ll do more research and share with you any findings we come across. And you win…” Dan Heng sighed as if to prepare himself. He couldn't believe he was deliberately choosing the next words that were going to come out of his mouth. “As cheesy as it is to say this, I need you to understand that we’re a team.”

“Roger that, Master Dan Heng.” Came the witty reply but Dan Heng could tell from Stelle’s smile that the intent behind her reply was just as every bit genuine as his statement to her.

Dan Heng sighed again, but this time with exasperation mixed with a bit of relief as he finally let her go. “At least you didn’t call me–”

“Cold Dragon Young? I put that as your contact name on my phone!”

“You what?”

“You’re really garnering up a solid fan base here, y’know?” A glimmer of amusement appeared in her eyes and Dan Heng instinctively facepalmed.

“Please stop.”

“I also wired you the money I got from selling your picture. Keep up the good work, Dan Heng!”

A blush crept up from his neck, also slightly dusting the edges of his ears. “You really didn’t have to. I’d rather you keep it so I can forget that ever happened. It’s beyond embarrassing.”

Stelle hummed as she tapped her chin to think. “Well, perhaps I should just use the credits to treat you and March to something? Let’s do that tomorrow, how about that?”

Even if Stelle had offered to take only him along, Dan Heng felt like he would have still agreed and somehow that revelation... bothered him quite a bit. Not that he’d ever reveal this thought to anyone. He had to first make sure he didn't catch a fever from being in the Belobog cold for so long.

“That sounds fine.”

━━━━━━☆━━━━━━

“Yaaawn… Where were you last nigh– Hey, why’re you turning so red??”

[camisoledadparis]

THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … December 14

c.530 – Venantius Fortunatus (d.circa 600/609) was a Latin poet and hymnodist in the Merovingian Court, and a Bishop of the early Catholic Church. He was never canonised but was venerated as Saint Venantius Fortunatus during the Middle Ages.

Born in Treviso, near Ravenna in Italy, he spent his time as court poet to the Merovingians. After visiting the tomb of St. Martin of Tours at St. Hilary at Poitiers, he decided to enter a monastery.

He continued to write poetry, some of which have a permanent place in Catholic hymnody, for instance the Easter season hymns "Vexilla Regis" and the "Pange Lingua" (Sing, O my tongue, of the battle). Three or four years before he died he was made bishop of Poitiers. Although never canonized, he was venerated as a saint in the medieval church, and his feast day is still recognized on 14th December each year.

Like Paulinus of Nola, St Venantius's poetry also includes some decidedly secular verse of the romantic sort. That this celebrates male love is clear from its inclusion in the Penguin Book of Homosexual Verse.

"Written on an Island off the Breton Coast" You at God's altar stand, His minister And Paris lies about you and the Seine: Around this Breton isle the Ocean swells, Deep water and one love between us twain. Wild is the wind, but still thy name is spoken; Rough is the sea: it sweeps not o'er they face. Still runs my lover for shelter to its dwelling, Hither, O heart, to thine abiding place. Swift as the waves beneath an east wind breaking Dark as beneath a winter sky the sea, So to my heart crowd memories awaking, So dark, O love, my spirit without thee.

Fortunatus died in the early 600s. He was called a saint after his death, but was never formally canonized.

1901 – King Paul of Greece (d.1964) reigned as king of Greece from 1947 to 1964. He may have been bi-sexual.

Paul was born in Athens, the third son of King Constantine I of Greece and his wife, Princess Sophia of Prussia. He was trained as a naval officer. On 9 January 1938, Paul married Frederika of Hanover at Athens. They had three children.

Before his marriage he is alleged to have invited the homosexual literary muse, Denham Fouts, on a cruise of the Aegean Sea, perhaps because they were lovers. However, Fouts's friend John B. L. Goodwin said Fouts often made up stories about his life, and literary critic Katherine Bucknell thought many of the tales about him were myth.

During most of World War II, when Greece was under German occupation, he was with the Greek government-in-exile in London and Cairo. From Cairo, he broadcast messages to the Greek people.

Paul returned to Greece in 1946. He succeeded to the throne in 1947, on the death of his childless elder brother, King George II.

David Lewis (L) with Producer Irving Pichel

1903 – David Lewis (d.1987 ), born David Levy, was a Hollywood film producer who produced such films as Dark Victory (1939), Arch of Triumph (1948), and Raintree County (1957).

He was also the longtime companion of director James Whale from 1930 to 1952. Although they were separated at the time of Whale's death in 1957, Lewis later released the contents of Whale's suicide note.

Lewis was portrayed in the 1998 film Gods and Monsters by David Dukes.

1915 – The American actor and dancer Dan Dailey was born on this date (d.1978). Dailey was born and raised in New York City and appeared in vaudeville before his Broadway debut in 1937 in Babes in Arms. In 1940, he was signed by MGM to make movies and, although his past career had been in musicals, he was initially cast as a Nazi in The Mortal Storm. However, the people at MGM realized their mistake quickly and cast him in a series of musical films.

He served in the United States Army during World War II, was commissioned as an Army Officer after graduation from Signal OCS at Ft Monmouth, NJ, after which he served with distinction until the war ended. Then returned to more musicals. Beginning with Mother Wore Tights (1947) Dailey became the frequent and favorite co-star of movie legend Betty Grable. His performance in their film When My Baby Smiles at Me in 1948 garnered him an Academy Award nomination for Best Actor. In 1950, he starred in A Ticket to Tomahawk, often noted as one of the first screen appearances of Marilyn Monroe, in a very small part as a dance-hall girl. In 1953, Dailey starred in Meet Me at the Fair. One of his notable roles was in There's No Business Like Show Business (1954) which featured Irving Berlin's music and also starred Ethel Merman, Marilyn Monroe, Donald O'Connor, and Johnnie Ray.

In 1950 the notorious "Confidential" Magazine (the National Enquirer of its day) printed a picture of him wearing female clothing. His studio, 20th Century Fox, rushed to repair the damage; gossip columnists were told that Dailey had simply been snapped on his way to a fancy dress party. But Andre Previn, the composer, tells in his biography No Minor Chords how Dailey turned up drunk and in female clothing for the press screening of It's Always Fair Weather in 1954. In the mid '70s, gossip columnist Joyce Haber was on television promoting a novel about Hollywood. Asked to dish some gossip, she mentioned that one of the top dancer-actors was a closet transvestite with a costly and beautiful wardrobe that many women would envy.

He had three failed marriages with women, but also was known to hang out in Gay bars. After the suicide of his only son, he was an embittered alcoholic. He died three years later, just after he playing boyfriend Clyde Tolson in (the unintentionally hilarious *and bad*) The Private Files of J.Edgar Hoover (1977). He appeared in over 60 films in his career.

1932 – George Furth (d.2008) was an American librettist, playwright, and actor.

Born in Chicago with the name of George Schweinfurth (he dropped the "schwein" on becoming an actor).

Furth made his Broadway debut as an actor in the 1961 play A Cook for Mr. General, followed by the musical Hot Spot two years later. He was also known for his collaborations with Stephen Sondheim: the highly successful Company, the ill-fated Merrily We Roll Along and the equally ill-fated drama, Getting Away with Murder. Furth penned the plays Twigs, The Supporting Cast and Precious Sons, and wrote the book for the Kander and Ebb musical, The Act.

Company has been revived many times over the years, sometimes updated to the Aids era, although requests from producers to give the show a homosexual slant were turned down by the unmarried Sondheim and Furth, although both of them were gay.

Frequently cast as a bespectacled, ineffectual milquetoast, Furth appeared in such films as The Best Man, Myra Breckinridge, Hooper, Blazing Saddles, Oh God!, Shampoo, The Cannonball Run, Young Doctors in Love, Doctor Detroit, Bulworth and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. His many television credits include Tammy, McHale's Navy, Ironside, I Dream of Jeannie, That Girl, Green Acres, The Monkees, Batman, The Odd Couple, Bonanza, Happy Days, All in the Family, Murphy Brown, L.A. Law, Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, Murder, She Wrote, Little House on the Prairie, Love, American Style, Adam-12, F Troop and the made-for-TV film The Scarlett O'Hara War, in which he portrayed famed film director George Cukor. He was a regular in the cast of the short-lived 1976 situation comedy The Dumplings.

He adapted his play Twigs as a 1975 television production, starring Carol Burnett. He also worked as a voice actor in several episodes of the animated television series The Adventures of Don Coyote and Sancho Panda for Hanna-Barbera Productions.

One of Furth's last writing projects was a foray into an area where he had not previously endeavored. Furth penned the lyrics for a musical revue, with music by Doug Katsaros. Furth and Katsaros shaped the work with San Francisco director Mike Ward into "The End - a new musical revue". The piece was performed at San Francisco's New Conservatory Theatre Center during the summer of 2004 and was billed as a "Pre-U.S. Tour Workshop Production". The piece was reworked twice, with the title changing to Last Call and Happy Hour, respectively.

Furth died on August 11, 2008 at the age of 75. The exact cause of death is unknown, although he had been hospitalized for a lung disease at the time.

1955 – Hervé Guibert (d.1991) was a French writer and photographer. The author of numerous novels and autobiographical studies, he played a considerable role in changing French public attitudes to AIDS. He was a close friend and lover of Michel Foucault.

Guibert was born in Saint-Cloud, Hauts-de-Seine, to a middle-class family and spent his early years in Paris, moving to La Rochelle from 1970 to 1973. In his teens Hervé Guibert lied about his age to work at the magazine 20 ans eventually leading to a job with Le Monde. After working as a filmmaker and actor, he turned to photography and journalism. In 1978, he successfully applied for a job at France's prestigious evening paper Le Monde and published his second book, Les aventures singulières (published by Éditions de minuit). In 1984, Guibert shared a César Award for best screenplay with Patrice Chéreau for L'homme blessé. Guibert had met Chéreau in the 1970s during his theatrical years.

Guibert's writing style was inspired by the French writer Jean Genet. Three of his lovers occupied an important place in his life and work: Thierry Jouno, director of an institute for the blind whom he met in 1976, and which led to his novel Des aveugles; Michel Foucault, whom he met in 1977; and Vincent Marmousez, a teenager of fifteen who inspired his novel Fou de Vincent.

In January 1988 Guibert was diagnosed with AIDS. From then on, he worked at recording what was left of his life. In June the following year, he married Christine, the partner of the late Thierry Jouno, so that his royalty income would eventually pass to her and her two children. In 1990, Guibert publicly revealed his HIV status in his roman à clef "À l'ami qui ne m'a pas sauvé la vie" (published in English as To the Friend Who Did Not Save My Life). Guibert immediately found himself the focus of media attention, featured in newspapers and appearing on several television talk shows.

Two more books also detailing the progress of his illness followed: Le Protocole compassionnel (published in English as The Compassionate Protocol) and L'Homme au chapeau rouge (published in English as The Man In The Red Hat), which was released posthumously in January 1992, the same month French television screened La Pudeur ou l'impudeur, a home-made film by Guibert of his last year as he lost his battle against AIDS. Almost blind as a result of disease, he attempted to end his life just before his 36th birthday, and died two weeks later.

1960 – Bob Paris, American bodybuilder and Gay rights advocate, born; The former Mr. Universe, and International Federation of BodyBuilders professional bodybuilder, Bob Paris is a writer, public speaker and civil rights activist. He acknowledged his sexuality in the July 1989 issue of Ironman magazine and has graced the covers of scores of magazines worldwide. After Paris officially came out as a Gay man in the media, he and his then-partner, Rod Jackson, became involved in marriage equality advocacy, started successful non-profits, lectured on a wide variety of Gay civil rights issues, and made many television, radio, newspaper and magazine appearances. The two separated in 1995. Today, Paris lives with his spouse of eleven years, Brian, on an island near Vancouver, British Columbia. Bob and Brian were legally married after Canada equalized the marriage laws in 2003.

In addition to his writing career, Bob Paris remains a committed civil rights advocate as well as a motivational speaker, model and actor. In 1998, he made his New York stage debut, starring at Carnegie Hall opposite Bea Arthur, Sandy Duncan and Tyne Daly in the Broadway musical, Jubilee as the character Mowgli. He is one of the subject of photographer Herb Ritts' gorgeous book, Duo. His official website is: http://www.bobparis.com/

1966 – James Earl Hardy, born in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, New York, is an American playwright, novelist, and journalist.

Generally considered the first to depict same-sex love stories that take place within the hip-hop community, his writing is largely characterized by its exploration of the African-American LGBTQ experience.

Hardy's best-known work is the B-Boy Blues series. The B-Boys Blues series comprises six novels and one short story. B-Boy Blues was adapted into a play in 2013 and into a film, directed and co-written by Jussie Smollett, in 2021.

Hardy attended undergraduate school at St. John's University and afterward went on to graduate from the Columbia Graduate School of Journalism in 1993. From 1992 to 1994, he wrote for Entertainment Weekly as a music journalist.

1968 – Yotam Ottolenghi is an Israeli-English chef, restaurateur, and food writer. He is the co-owner of six delis and restaurants in London, as well as the author of several bestselling cookbooks, including Ottolenghi (2008), Plenty (2010), Jerusalem (2012) and Ottolenghi Simple (2018).

Ottolenghi was conscripted into the Israeli Defense Forces in 1989, serving three years in IDF intelligence headquarters. He then studied at the Adi Lautman Interdisciplinary Program for Outstanding Students of Tel Aviv University, where in 1997, he completed a combined bachelor's and master's degree in comparative literature; his thesis being on the philosophy of the photographic image. While working on his thesis, Ottolenghi served as a night copy editor for Haaretz.

In 1997, Ottolenghi and his then-partner Noam Bar moved to Amsterdam, where he edited the Hebrew section of the Dutch-Jewish weekly NIW and considered getting his doctorate in comparative literature. Instead, he moved to London to study French cooking at Le Cordon Bleu.

Ottolenghi met his partner Karl Allen in 2000; they married in 2012 and live in Camden with their two sons, Max and Flynn. In 2013, Ottolenghi "came out as a gay father" in a Guardian essay that detailed the lengthy process of conceiving Max via gestational surrogacy, an option that he believes should be more widely available to those who cannot conceive naturally.

Ottolenghi served as a pastry chef at three London restaurants: the Michelin-starred Capital Restaurant, Kensington Place, and Launceston Place in Kensington New Town. In 1999, he became head pastry chef at the artisanal pastry shop Baker and Spice, where he met the Palestinian chef Sami Tamimi, who grew up in Jerusalem's Old City. Ottolenghi and Tamimi bonded over a shared language—Hebrew—and a joint "incomprehension of traditional English food".

His debut cookbook Ottolenghi was published in 2008 and has sold over 100,000 copies. Six volumes have followed: the all-vegetable cookbooks Plenty (2010) and Plenty More (2014); Jerusalem (2012); Nopi (2015); the dessert cookbook Sweet (2017); and Ottolenghi Simple (2018).

Ottolenghi's bestselling cookbooks have proven influential, with The New York Times noting that they are "widely knocked-off for their plain-spoken instructions, puffy covers, and photographs [that Ottolenghi] oversees himself, eschewing a food stylist". In 2014, the London Evening Standard remarked that Ottolenghi had "radically rewritten the way Londoners cook and eat", and Bon Appetit wrote that he had "made the world love vegetables".

1988 – The movie version of Harvey Fierstein's play "Torch Song Trilogy" opened in New York.

1989 – Amini Fonua is a Tongan competitive swimmer.

Fonua was born and raised in Ponsonby, Auckland, New Zealand to Tongan lawyer Sione Fonua and British-born mother Julie. He holds dual Tongan and New Zealand citizenship. His family includes two other sisters.

Fonua's swimming career began at the Roskill Swimming Club based at Cameron Pool in Auckland, coached by Sandra Burrow from 1999–2007. He broke numerous Auckland and New Zealand Age Group Records under Burrow's tenure. He then moved to West Auckland Aquatics in 2007, and was coached by Donna Bouzaid. In the Fall of 2008, Fonua enrolled at Texas A&M on a swimming scholarship. While at Texas A&M he was a peer voted Team Captain, Big XII Conference Champion, NCAA All-American, and recipient of The Aggie Heart Award. He graduated with a Telecommunication and Multi-Media degree, with a Minor in Creative Writing in May 2013.

He was the first Tongan swimmer to win a gold medal in international competition, when he took gold in the 50 metre breaststroke at the 2010 Oceania Swimming Championships.

In preparation for the 2012 London Olympics Fonua was trained by New Zealander and designated head coach for Tonga, Jon Winter. He served as his nation's flag-bearer in the 2012 Summer Olympics Parade of Nations. As a swimmer at the 2012 Summer Olympics, he competed in the Men's 100 metre breaststroke, failing to reach the semifinals.

Fonua made an international comeback at the 2015 Pacific Games in Port Moresby, Papua New Guinea. He created history by becoming the first ever Tongan athlete to ever win 3 Gold medals at a Pacific Games by sweeping the Breaststroke events, setting 2 Games Records in the process (50 m and 100 m Breaststroke). He is the only Tongan athlete in history to ever hold dual Oceania and Pacific Games titles.

Fonua is openly gay and an advocate for LGBT rights.

1993 – In Denver Colorado, Judge Jeffrey Bayless ruled Amendment 2 unconstitutional. The amendment to the Colorado state constitution sought to eliminate all gay rights laws in the state and prevent any more from being passed.

[alittlebitofsainz]

you’re just a boy (and i’m kinda the man)

prompt: “i’m on a one-way trip to take over the world, and i thought you did, but you don’t understand.”

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

summary: daniel leaves mclaren, and you decide to put your career first, at the cost of the person you love.

a/n: genuinely made myself sad with this one, sorry :( song is by maisie peters!

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

“I just don’t understand how you can stay with them after everything they’ve put you through.”

you ran a hand through your hair, exasperated.

“that’s just it, danny, you don’t understand.” you sighed, slumping forward on the desk, your elbow resting on the surface and your head resting in your hand. the other hand was gripping the phone held to your ear. “this is my career, it’s my entire life. I might not get another opportunity.”

“you know it’s the same for me, right?” daniel’s voice crackled through the phone after a few moments of silence, his volume quieter now. “this is the end of my career, probably. but it’s gotta be better than staying with mclaren.”

you shook your head, even though he couldn’t see.

“but you’re you, danny. you’ll get another chance, I’m sure. you’re one of the biggest faces in this sport.” you sighed again, “but I’m just me. no one is gonna offer me a second chance.” you tried to explain, raising your head slightly to glance at the rain softly hitting the window.

you heard him mutter something inaudible on the other end of the line, the words obscured by the static of the airwaves. you knew he hated when you did that, talked down about yourself. you’d lost count of the number of times the two of you had sat shoulder to shoulder in your drivers room, trying to boost each others spirits after a bad race. daniel was your teammate, your closest friend, your partner in crime, the love of your life. he’d always been able to see things from your point of view. why couldn’t he understand this decision? a conversation from a few months ago drifted through your mind. whatever we do, we do it together. you’d been the one to say that, and now look at you; reluctant to follow daniel into the unknown because you were scared. scared of the uncertainty. scared of losing your one shot at this career. you’d meant what you’d said at the time, but… no. you couldn’t do it. daniel was nearly the best thing that had ever happened to you, second only to earning a seat in formula one. that had to come first. you had to put yourself first. but it didn’t seem to make this phone call any easier. god, you wished you weren’t hundreds of miles away.

“just think, me, you, the outback. we’ll have all the time for dirt bikes and beach trips that you could possibly want.” daniel’s voice brought you back to the present. you could hear the crack in his voice as he tried to persuade you, the one that told you he already knew this was a losing battle. he was losing you. you tilted your head back, looking up at the ceiling; for the first time you were actually glad that this was all happening over a phone call, that daniel couldn’t see the tears forming on your lower lash line.

“I can’t, danny. you know I can’t.” even if daniel couldn’t see you crying, you were being optimistic if you hoped he couldn’t hear it in your voice.

“I know.” he sighed, the noise soft, quiet. there was silence on the line for just a moment, and you felt inclined to fill it, terrified that the conversation was already drawing to a close. you didn’t want daniel to hang up. you didn’t want to believe that this could all be over just like that.

“I’m really sorry, dan.” you apologised, saying anything to try and keep the momentum of the conversation.

“you don’t need to apologise. it’s not your fault.” came his predictable reply, but his tone was missing the kindness, the affection, you’d come to expect from a phone call with daniel. his voice was flat, monotone, and you found yourself unable to read how he was feeling. it had been a long time since that had happened; you and daniel always used to be on the same wavelength. it felt alien, like you were out of your depth. was he angry? upset? did he just not care anymore?

“we can still make this work, can’t we?”

you’d been avoiding the question, but now there was nothing left to say but that. the pause on the other end of the line didn’t fill you with confidence.

“I want to, god, you don’t even understand how much I want to.” came daniel’s reply, voice no longer monotone, instead betraying the emotions he was feeling. you winced as you could almost hear the ‘but’ on the end of his sentence.

“we can try, right? like, I can come visit you over christmas, then next year you’ll probably be at some of the race weekends anyway, and then I can try and get away from training during summer break…”

the more you spoke, the more you realised how hopeless this was. how could you expect to put enough effort into this relationship when you only had a few weekends spare per year? how could you expect daniel to come and watch and cheer for you at each race weekend, knowing that you were living his dream and he was stuck on the sidelines? your voice faltered as it trailed off, the realisation hitting you. fuck. this was it.

“please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be, y/n.”

you’d never heard daniel’s voice so quiet, with so little power behind it. you didn’t know whether you were even pleased that he was as devastated as you were about all this: how could this be the right decision when neither one of you wanted it? such was the reality of this sport. you swallowed thickly - daniel was right, there was no point in drawing this out, making it difficult. you wouldn’t be reduced to begging; at least you could walk away from this with your pride, if nothing else. you wiped a tear from your cheek with the heel of your free hand, the other gripping the phone so tightly that your knuckles turned white, holding onto it like a lifeline.

“no, you’re right. I’m sorry.” you mumbled in reply, once again glancing up at the ceiling to try and stem the flow of tears. you tried not to picture daniel doing the same thing on the end of the phone; it would only make you cry again.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll catch you at races and stuff, next year.” the finality in daniel’s voice made you draw in a shaky breath, steeling yourself for the aftermath. at least you and daniel had never gone public, you were grateful for that much. still, you’d been best friends in the eyes of the public, practically joined at the hip. people would notice when you no longer spent any time together. you tried to park that thought as your mind started to race; there would be time to deal with all of that later.

“yeah. I’ll see you around.” you couldn’t believe this was the way it would end. I’ll see you around. as if you hadn’t spent the last year and a half in each others pockets. as if every kiss and every I love you meant nothing now. as if you hadn’t spent long nights planning out your future together. none of it mattered now, you realised, tears threatening to fall once again.

“I loved you, y/n. never forget that.”

it felt like your throat closed up at that, unable to dignify daniel’s words with a suitable response. there was so much more you wanted to tell him, wanted to say, but you couldn’t even manage to say it back. you bit your lip, letting silence fill the call for one last time, before pulling your phone away from your ear and hitting the button to hang up.

a tear hit the screen of your phone right next to the daniel’s contact name, before the call ended, and his name disappeared.

[blogtangkwa]

This mattress is very soft.

[antoniettap1303]

Meanwhile in the human world... ⭐

[idontthinkimokaymentally]

Hello there Rugain fans.

[dcdreamblog]

You have any cool trivia about the time Axis America attacked the Perisphere, and they were seen off by the Young All-Stars? All I know is the weird trivia that both groups had line-ups that seem eerily similar to each other and to the Justice League.

(Sidenote, are there any theories about that?)

Sure. The Battle of Flushing Meadows (named after the park where the Trylon and the Perisphere now sit) was actually the inaugural battle of the Young All Stars, who certainly weren't a team the All Stars had expected to put together.

(TW below, nazi imagery)

(A lineup of Axis Amerika from an internal Nazi file captured post war, marked under "Projekt: Gesellschaft")

The Axis Amerika was interesting because, as its name implied, it was not a team active on the actual fronts of the war but was a fifth columnist group made up of homegrown fascist elements from right here in the USA, recruiting mostly for American fascist groups. Its lineup was majority German-American but on member "Usil, the Sun Archer" was later identified as an Italian-American and they had attempted to recruit young Nisei Miya Shimada to their cause after her parents were interned from their home on the west coast.

The Young All-Star's lineup had come from all over

(Poster of the Young All-Stars produced c. 1943 for propaganda purposes)

Left to Right: Iron Munro, Fury, Neptune Perkins, Tsunami, Flying Fox and Dan the Dyna-Mite.

The team was "assembled" more or less because they happened to be present when the attack went down. Axis Amerika's target had of course been the All Stars themselves. Team members Johnny Quick and Liberty Belle were quickly taken out of the fight when Iron Munro, Flying Fox and Fury jumped in, holding off the fascist invaders long enough to force a retreat when Green Lantern arrived.

Neptune Perkins and Tsunami (who Axis Amerika had previously tried to recruit) were inducted into the "team" along with Dan the Dyna-Mite who had recently lost his beloved partner TNT in a battle with nazi saboteurs where he and Munro had first met.

Now having this small but notable group of underage superhumans needing guidance, the All Stars decided basically on a whim to assemble the group into a team. The All Stars, despite the nature of their membership, were always low on manpower so a few extra hands were not going to be refused due to age (especially since a good chunk of the Squadron's membership already had young partners or wards) As for the second part of your question, you're not wrong. Both teams and the most iconic lineups of the JLA have: Invulnerable and Super Strong (Ubermensch/Iron Munro/ Superman) Based off of flying, nocturnal animals (Great Horned Owl/Flying Fox/Batman) Female warrior with basis in pagan mythology (Gurda/Fury/Wonder Woman) Young sidekick to a more expirienced fighter (The Bat/Dyna-Mite/Robin)

Aquatic superhuman (Sea Wolf/Neptune Perkins/Aquaman) and Archer (Usil/Tigress/Green Arrow)

I really couldn't tell you why though, other than the stars aligning to place these archetypes at these moments in time. Whether that coincidence has some sort of meaning for you is a question for a spirit medium, not a historian.

[seraphiism]

𓆩 ღ 𓆪 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ( 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 )

( the past is gone ; the future is far away. WHAT ARE YOU AFRAID OF? )

chara : dan heng fandom : honkai star rail quote cr : agust d a/n : he is just a little guy . also i've played for like 2 hrs i love writing abt men i love yet have no idea who they are

THE PAST IS A DESIRE DEMON / A DEVIL IN DISGUISE : INTOXICATING, ALLURING, AND EVERYTHING HE THOUGHT HE ONCE SURVIVED. THE PAST IS AN ILLUSION, A DREAM, A RECKONING : THE WOOL PULLED OVER ONE'S EYES, AN OBSCURE SMOKESCREEN, AND THE INABILITY TO DISTINGUISH WHAT WAS REAL AND WHAT WAS NOT IN MEANS OF COPING WITH WHAT WAS LOST.

the past is something dan heng cannot escape. journey after journey, battle after battle, the tides grow in their cruelty, threaten to drown a dragon in the waves of penitence. there is something that lingers in the strings of the heart-- a memory waning, the bitter taste of rust on his tongue-- how it anchors him so, prays for a downfall that one deems deserved.

the past is not something dan heng wishes to remember, but he does, anyway, because somewhere, there is the breaking of a seemingly cold soul that reminds him that even he cannot ignore his own humanity. defeat the spirit and it will return even stronger, suppress the sins of the past and they will return with even more hatred and anguish.

somewhere, he's drowning.

his vision fills with a clear blue-- tranquil. silent. forlorn. a clear blue, a violent storm, the harsh ebb and flow, then a muddled mess of blue and black. everything distorts, turns into white noise. he cannot see, cannot hear, feels his senses being stolen away, left in a limbo of uncertainty. something presses against his chest. something is pressing down and down -- a slow descent, the rapid rise and fall in attempt to breathe breathe breathe BREATHE --

dan heng cannot regain himself. he shuts his eyes, reminds himself that there is a way out of all things. composure and focus aligned, he controls his breathing. in and out, inhale and exhale. deep breath. there is a way out of all things. there is no need to be afraid. the pressure eases. the weight is lighter, but remains present, but the sway of the waters persists, and he cannot stabilize himself, find harbor and safety in the tides.

he opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is you. his head throbs, the floor beneath him far from comfortable. he cannot remember much, not really, recalls fighting beast after beast before seeing you in danger. he has always been a protector, a shield, but even then, he does not think his heart has ever raced so quickly in the desperation of guarding another. how quick he was, covering your body with his in order to save you from harm's way.

--ah. he remembers it all now. the way you cried out for him, that terrifying pain that engulfed his body, the quiet relief he felt when he realized you were okay, then the losing of himself and the welcoming of darkness.

you hover over him, concern etched all over your features, scratches and bruises adorning your face. your hand lingers on his chest, desperate. you seek comfort in the knowing of a beating heart, a weak apology spilling from your lips for about -- well, everything. dan heng doesn't quite understand it all-- an apology for shaking him so hard in means to wake him ( and maybe that's what it was, that weight, the strange instability in the tides. it was you all along, trying to pull your lover from the depths of the sea ). another apology for letting him get hurt, then another for--

his body hurts. his limbs ache, but he will be alright. he has to be. he smiles despite the panic and adrenaline that continues to rush through your bloodstream, and the mere sight means more than you could ever tell him. your words cut short, voice nearly breaking, and you cry the moment he places his hand over yours.

he does not speak of love so casually, finds that actions speak louder than words. in the way he squeezes your hand, utmost ardor found in blue hues, there is the silent confirmation that he is alright, that he's here with you.

"thank you." you whisper, and there are so many things you wish to say, but the words lodge themselves in your throat, heavy with the realization of what could have been. "thank you, dan heng."

you repeat this like a mantra unheard, the tears shamelessly spilling. he doesn't like the sight, feels the guilt rest on heavy shoulders, so he sits up, holds your hand a little tighter before he pulls you into a hug. how warm your tears are, he thinks, when you bury your face into the crook of his neck, and how grateful he is that you are able to share this moment, even if you are both injured. it doesn't matter in the end, he supposes. you are both alive and together, and that's all he needs.

"i won't leave you." he tells you. "you have me until the end."